


Repenting for his sins

by LadyNickname



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Aziraphale is a good dom, BDSM, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Dirty Talk, Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Dom/sub, Light Master/Pet, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safeword Use, Smut, Spanking, Sub Crowley (Good Omens), Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Verbal Humiliation, Wax Play, clothespins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2020-06-24 03:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19714912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyNickname/pseuds/LadyNickname
Summary: "Aren't you a lustful creature?" He said, softly and mockingly.When Crowley failed to answer, the hand in his hair turned into a fist, pulling his hair hard, and forcing him in a more upright position, to look into Aziraphale's eyes."I asked you a question.""Yesss", Crowley hissed in answer."I'm sorry, what was that?""I'm a lustful creature" Crowley bit back, with all the fake anger he could muster."Now, you know I can't stand for that, don't you, demon?"Crowley looked up at him, a lazy smirk stretching his lips."And what are you gonna do about it, hmm?"Well.It's porn.Honestly, that's all there is to it!





	1. Lust and Pride

Crowley knew they were going to play today, and, at his own request, for this scene, he wouldn't know what would happen, or when, or how. For all instance and purposes, everything just seemed like a normal day in the bookshop, spent lounging around while Aziraphale worked. Or, well, ignored him. Which usually meant that Crowley was bored out of his head and slept to while away the hours. But today, Crowley couldn't find sleep. His mind was too busy anticipating what may happen. Would Aziraphale wait until he was dozing off to lean over him and start touching him? They had, after all, discussed consensual somnophilia.

He could imagine it perfectly. Being at his most vulnerable, open and asleep, and having Aziraphale trail his hands lightly over his body at first, teasing, exploring, before they turned hungry and groping… Or maybe it was something else entirely. Maybe Aziraphale was merely waiting for Crowley to be bored enough to do something stupid, like speak out of turns, and then, he would have to show him his place, wouldn't he? Or maybe Aziraphale was merely waiting for Crowley to come to him and beg him to start the scene, kneel in front of him, desperate and pathetic…

But what he hardly realized was that Aziraphale's plans were actually already in motion. Because all his musings had made his pants way too tight, and before he knew it, Crowley was laying on the sofa, hard as a rock, panting lightly.  
That's when he heard a soft voice.  
"Oh, my, what do we have here?"  
Ah. He was caught already. Crowley opened his eyes and saw Aziraphale, casually walking towards him, a disapproving frown creasing his brow.  
"Oh, no, that won't do at all!"  
He was now standing up, looking down on Crowley, staring. Meanwhile, the demon had forgotten how to breathe or move, erection still tanting his pants.

  
Aziraphale allowed the moment of silence and disapproving judgement to last for a few seconds. And Crowley enjoyed his own mortification thoroughly.  
When the angel finally moved, it was to snake a hand in the demon's hair, petting slowly and absent-mindedly.  
"Aren't you a lustful creature?" He said, softly and mockingly.  
When Crowley failed to answer, the hand on his head turned into a fist, pulling his hair hard, and forcing him in a more upright position, to look into Aziraphale's eyes.  
"I asked you a question."  
"Yesss", Crowley hissed in answer.  
"I'm sorry, what was that?"  
"I'm a lustful creature" Crowley bit back, with all the fake anger he could muster.  
"Now, you know I can't stand for that, don't you, demon?"  
Crowley looked up at him, a lazy smirk stretching his lips.  
"And what are you gonna do about it, hmm?"

Aziraphale didn't answer. He pulled Crowley by the hair until he was standing up, then, still holding him, sat down on the sofa. He then forced Crowley into laying on his belly, across his lap. And Crowley was already writhing there, already losing control, already too aroused to do anything but grind into Aziraphale's lap, looking for friction.  
The angel tutted, disapprovingly. He caught both of Crowley's hands and held them behind his back, one-handed, pressing down to make sure the demon couldn't move his hips. And then, he used his other hand to undo his bow tie and wrap it around Crowley's wrists. When he was satisfied, he bent down to whisper in Crowley's ear:  
"What a sinful thing you are. I think a correction is in order."

Crowley felt perfectly helpless, and he loved it. But the anticipation was building, and Aziraphale was still not doing much. He felt a hand trailing lightly on his leg, barely there and torturously slow, rising up… the light touch was now on his thigh, and Crowley's breath caught. He tried to remain still, tried to calm himself down, to not make a complete fool out of himself. The angel had barely done anything and he was already falling apart. That wouldn't do. No, he'd be patient, he'd be cool. He certainly would not give in to his urge to demand (beg) Aziraphale to get on with him and spank him or fuck him or use him or do something, anything. He wouldn't. Not yet, anyway.

  
The hand was slowly getting closer to his ass. Crowley was trying to hide the fact that his breathing was already labored. But then, the hand finally, finally reached his butt. And, to Crowley's desperation, the touches remained unbearably light. Trailing absent-mindedly up and down his curves, in a soft, repetitive motion. That is, until, finally, after what seemed like hours (but was barely a minute), a finger gently traced the seam of his jeans, following his ass crack. There, it got a bit more insistent, but still way too light, gently pushing, teasing lightly at his hole through the denim.

  
And Crowley couldn't help it. He let out a soft moan. The hand in his hair was back, pulling roughly so he could look Aziraphale in the eye.

  
"Oh. Are you enjoying this?" He said, with a soft smile "how perfectly disgusting". And Crowley, though seeing the fondness in the angel's eyes, felt perfectly embarrassed and ashamed. Before he could properly enjoy the feeling though, a hard slap landed on his ass. And Crowley cried out, though it was clearly more out of arousal than discomfort. The delicious pain kept coming for a while, reducing him to soft moans and sharp cries. He counted 15 slaps until Aziraphale stopped, pushed Crowley's legs away and stood up.

  
Crowley was now on his back, still looking up at Aziraphale while the Angel's eyes were dispassionately trailing up and down his body, stopping to pointedly stare at Crowley's erection. The gaze made him squirm.  
"Well, I see you haven't learned your lesson yet."

  
A hand was on his throat. Not squeezing, not yet, but the treat, the sweet promise was there.

  
"I'm sorry", Crowley moaned. He hoped it would be enough. No, if he was honest with himself, he hoped it wouldn't be.  
"For what?" Aziraphale answered.  
Oh the bastard knew exactly how to push his buttons. He was going to make Crowley spell it out for him.  
"For… for being…"  
"Yes?" The voice was cool and impatient. He would have to spit it out.  
"For being a horny little slut."  
That seemed to do the trick. He was rewarded with a warm smile and a peck on the forehead.  
"Very good", the angel answered. "Now, since you seem to be a lost cause in the lust department, maybe we should tackle your other sins."  
Crowley had not expected that. He was genuinely surprised when he asked: "other sins?"

  
Aziraphale used his hold on Crowley's neck to get him to his feet.  
Then, he promptly walked around the demon, to get behind him and push him in the direction of a mirror Crowley was certain wasn't there this morning.  
"Look at you" Aziraphale whispered in his ear. And Crowley took in his reflection, hands still tied behind his back, hair disheveled, cheeks pink, his chest rising and falling too quickly…  
Was this still about lust? Aziraphale did say it was about something else now, but looking at himself in the mirror, the only thing he noticed was his obvious, desperate arousal. But before he could voice his concerns, Aziraphale resumed talking.  
"You take a lot of pride in your looks, don't you? All these expensive clothes and products you use. Did you know that vanity is a sin?"

  
He felt a hand trail down his body, following the buttons of his shirt. A thrill ran up his spine, and he started shaking lightly. Yes, he was going to enjoy this next part quite a lot.  
"I think I should teach you about humility."  
And then the shirt was ripped to shreds, and a startled scream escaped Crowley's lips.  
"There, isn't that better already?"

  
The hand was now roaming on his bare skin, pushing the remnants of the dress shirt out of the way to twist one of Crowley's nipples hard, and getting a pitiful whine in reward. Aziraphale kept playing with the sensitive flesh, rolling it in his fingers and pinching it until waves of pleasure were sent directly to Crowley's hard cock, reducing him to a mewling, panting puddle that would have collapsed on the floor were the angel not holding him firmly in place.

  
A snap of the fingers, and Crowley was naked, every inch of him exposed and reflected to himself, while Aziraphale, fully clothed, still stood proudly behind him.  
"Now you are as you should be. Vulnerable and pitiful, next to your betters. This is how demons deserve to be treated, isn't it?"  
"Yes !" Crowley answered, voice thick and raspy.  
"Good. Then I'm going to show you your proper place."

Aziraphale used Crowley's bound hands to push him to walk a few feet, until they were near the desk. There, he let go of his captive and sat in his office chair, turning away from him. He waited a second or two, and was still not looking at him when he gave the command: "Kneel."  
And Crowley did.  
And Aziraphale turned away and started to work.

  
Crowley, naked, on his knees and still painfully hard, was being thoroughly ignored. His breathing was still rough and panting, and Aizaphale was perfectly composed, not even looking in his direction, while he was losing his mind, humiliated and left to wait, his own pleasure, or even existence, far less important than Aziraphale's books. The thought made him impossibly more aroused. Which was made worse when, while still looking at whatever it was that he was doing, one of Aziraphale's hands reached out to him and started distractedly touching his hair, as one would do with a pet. Crowley let out a whine, and Aizaphale turned his head towards him, looking surprised.

  
"Do you want something?"  
"Yes. Yes please, I need…"  
"Ah, yes, I know exactly what a bitch in heat needs!"

  
Crowley was quite suddenly bent over the desk. Things seemed to be getting more interesting. His head was turned to the side, giving him a view of the angel, who was still reading a book and not looking his way.  
And that is when he felt a magically lubed finger against his hole. His breath caught then, staring at Aziraphale questioningly, but the angel was still completely focused on his book. The finger started entering him slowly, and Crowley sighed. He was being teased mercilessly while Aziraphale couldn't even be bothered to pay attention to him. This was probably the hottest thing that had ever happened to him.

  
A loud moan escaped him when the finger found his prostate. It was the first of many, as, soon enough, the digit started to slowly fuck into him, slamming the magical spot every time. When a second finger was added, Crowley was nothing more than a wrecked mess, moaning and gasping wantonly, as Aziraphale, impeccably clothed and still not looking at him, kept on reading.  
A third finger came in, fucking more roughly into him, and Crowley was a sobbing, moaning mess, wanting more, desperate for Aziraphale's touch and attention and kisses and most of all, desperate for his cock.  
No longer able to take the sweet torment, he resorted to begging, once more. "Aziraphale, please, please!"

And he sounded as desperate as he was.  
That seemed to get the angel's attention, as he gave him a disapproving glare.  
"Still not enough for you, you greedy little whore?"  
"No, please, please I need more!"  
Aziraphale let out a disappointed sigh.  
"Alright, then."

  
He pulled his fingers out, and Crowley heard the sound of a desk drawer being opened. And then he felt it, teasing against his opening.

  
Aziraphale pushed the vibrator in, and turned it on. Then he went back to his book and kept pushing the dildo in and out, still not looking at Crowley, who was moaning harder than ever, getting closer and closer to climax, his neglected cock trapped between him and the wood of the desk. He was driven mad by pleasure, and still knew that he would never be able to reach his orgasm this way. And with Aziraphale still pointedly ignoring him, he knew the only way to get what he wanted was to humiliate himself further and beg for it.

  
And so, after a little while that felt like an eternity, he did just that.  
"Aziraphale! Please!" Crowley wailed.  
Aziraphale let out what was meant to be a very annoyed grunt (but mostly came out as a very turned on one) and snapped:  
"What is it, now?"  
"Please, please angel, I need your cock!"  
Aziraphale gave no answer, but pulled Crowley to his knees once more, the vibrator still lodged against his prostate, and made him face his crotch.  
"Well then, all you had to do was ask."  
And Aziraphale pulled out his own hard dick.  
And then it dawned on him. Crowley was absolutely not about to get what he wanted. He was going to get something else entirely, and though it was something he enjoyed, he still felt like complaining.  
"Angel, please! Please that's not what I meant."  
"Colour?" Aziraphale asked, just to make sure.  
"Green, very green."  
Aziraphale went back into the conversation with ease.

"Oh, did you really think I was going to make the effort of fucking a creature like you? I don't think so, demon. Now, you wanted my cock. Here it is. If you're not grateful for it, I can go back to my book. You're wasting my time."  
"No, no please! Please, let me suck your cock!"  
Crolwey couldn't believe he was desperate enough to beg for that. The new onslaught of shame that coursed through him brought in another wave of arousal. "Teaching him humility" indeed.

  
When he got a curt nod in answer, Crowley leaned forward, and, hands still behind his back, started to work his mouth on Aziraphale's dick. He began by putting the tip into his mouth, lapping at it eagerly with his tongue for a few seconds, before starting bobbing his head up and down, sucking and swallowing enthusiastically.

  
Every little sigh and groan Aziraphale let out encouraged him, and, between that, the sheer humiliation of the situation and the vibrator still buzzing away happily in his ass, Crowley almost believed he could come untouched.  
He was interrupted in his musings by a simple command: "Swallow."  
And Crowley did.

  
After he was done, he was pushed back on the ground, while Aziraphale zipped himself back up and turned around in his chair, looking towards his book once more.  
And Crowley felt used, filthy, naked, and so aroused he couldn't even find the words to plead and beg anymore.

  
He just started moaning again, shifting his hips on the floor to get the vibrator moving inside of him, rocking against the ground. Aziraphale ignored him for a few more minutes, before he turned to him once more.

  
"Do you want to come?"  
Crowley seemed to find his voice again.  
"Yes, yes please I'm begging you please!"  
"Alright, go ahead then." Aziraphale said, tone mocking.  
"I… I can't I…"  
"Oh, do you need friction on your dick?"  
"Yes, please!"  
Aziraphale gave him a stern look. "Well, as I said, you still need to learn your place. So, I'm not going to touch you. But, since I'm nice, you may rub against my leg, if you want." He paused, taking in the shocked look on Crowley's face. "Colour?"  
Crowley barely hesitated, but his answer sounded breathless: "Green."  
"Perfect. I do believe humping an angel's leg is more than a demon such as yourself could ask for. You should feel honored."

Crowley looked up at him, and, with no trace of his usual sarcasm in his face or voice, he answered: "Yes. Thank you."

  
And then, he lurched forward, and placed himself against Aziraphale's leg, and started grinding. Between the friction on his neglected member and the vibrator shifting in his ass every time he moved his hips, the pleasure was quickly building, and he was soon once again moaning loudly and writhing, ignoring his embarrassment to chase his orgasm.

After what felt like hours of teasing, it came quite quickly, but with blinding force, and, before he could collapse, he was caught by Aizaphale's loving arms, and held tight against his chest.

  
His hands were untied, and Aziraphale was peppering sweet kisses all over his face, telling him over and over how wonderful he had been, how well he had taken it and how much he was loved.

  
He was carried back to the sofa, where they laid together under a soft blanket, and where a glass of water was miracled for him.  
After about half an hour of hugs and sweet nothings murmured in his ear, Aziraphale asked: "did you like it?"  
"Yeah. It was great! Loved every second of it. What about you?"  
"Oh, my dear boy, you were wonderful. I always love seeing you so open and vulnerable. You were such a delight."  
"Hmm. Let's do it again sometime soon?"  
"Anytime you want, my love."


	2. Greed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As soon as he laid on finger on Aziraphale, his wrists were caught in a strong grip and pinned on either side of his face.  
> The Angel was looking down on him, a disapproving frown on his face.  
> He tutted, and spoke in a very cold, disappointed voice: "And who allowed you to do that, demon? What makes you think you get to touch me?"
> 
> Oh. So it was starting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, apparently I decided to add another chapter!
> 
> Today, our lovely couple tackles greed.
> 
> Hope you like it!

They had discussed this session at length. They had to. It would be quite taxing on Crowley, after all, especially since they hadn't agreed on the duration. They had simply decided on a sentence he would need to say when he wanted to end it. Crowley took it as a challenge.

He didn't know how or when it would begin, though. He still enjoyed the element of surprise quite a lot. Additionally, they liked to space out their scenes, and have relatively vanilla, tender sex between them. "Relatively" meant that there would sometimes still be dirty talk and a bit of spanking. And sometimes just soft words of love and devotion. All of it felt lovely and good.

Tonight seemed to be one of these times. They were lying in bed, slowly kissing, Aziraphale gently touching every part of him, taking his time. There was no talk, just pleased silence. The angel lay on top of him, peppering kisses all over his face, slow and gentle. Loving and tender. His hands were caressing his hair lightly, careful not to tug or hurt at all. 

There was a soft kiss at the corner of his lips. Not quite where he wanted it, yet. There were hands roaming up and down the sides of his silk pajamas, slowly stroking his ribs. Crolwey was drowning in the sweet sensations. He felt so wonderfully cherished and taken care of. But after a while of light caresses, soft kisses and silence, his body soon wanted more.

His hands had been lying by his side. He lifted his arms, reaching for Aziraphale, trying to grab at his lapels to drag him in for a proper, much less chaste kiss.  
As soon as he laid on finger on Aziraphale, his wrists were caught in a strong grip and pinned on either side of his face.  
The Angel was looking down on him, a disapproving frown on his face.  
He tutted, and spoke in a very cold, disappointed voice: "And who allowed you to do that, demon? What makes you think you get to touch me?"

Oh. So it was starting. The question was a loaded one. They had already decided on an answer he should give if he agreed to proceed, in case Crowley was not in the mood when Aziraphale wanted to start the scene. But, seeing that his cock had considerably hardened upon hearing that one sentence, he was certainly not going to pass up on the opportunity.  
He gave his answer in a shaky, contrite voice, not looking the angel in the eye, feigning shame:  
"I'm sorry. I just wanted more."  
"My, my. Are you trying to disregard my wishes over your own, selfish eagerness? Did you forget you belong to me, and I get to do with you as I please?"  
"I'm so sorry." Crowley whined. "Please, forgive me."  
"I think not." Aziraphale answered in a cold tone. "Greed is a deadly sin, you know?"  
"I won't do it again. Please…"  
"Oh, I'll see to that, demon. I'll make sure you remember you are here for my pleasure, and my pleasure only. I can't allow you to become greedy."

These precise words elicited a full body shudder from Crowley. Oh, he was looking forward to this. He didn't know how long it would last, but he sure as hell hoped he could prolong the sweet torture that was coming for as long as possible.

Lost in his thoughts of his future pleasure and torment, Crowley had forgotten to give an answer. As he well knew, this was a punishable offense. Aziraphale would not tolerate being ignored. He was reminded of that when his wrists found themselves miraculously bound to the headboard, and, having his hands free, Aziraphale landed a sharp slap on his thigh. The angel's fingers gripped his chin tight, to get Crowley to look him in the eye.  
"Answer me, demon!"  
"Yessss" Crowley hissed. "I'm yours to use. To do with as you please."

This was all the consent Aziraphale needed. Crowley's pajamas were miracled off, and he found himself naked, achingly hard and vulnerable in front of his angel.  
"Good. You don't get to be greedy. You will take what I give you. Your pleasure is mine to control. You do not have the privilege to decide if and when you get the honor of being touched. Understood?"  
"Yes."  
"I will make sure you never forget that."  
And with that, Aziraphale slid the lubed cock ring right on place, restricting Crowley's member.

Without more preamble, Aziraphale roughly thrust his cock into Crowley's miraculously opened and slicked hole, and started moving mercilessly. With each snap of his hips, he managed to hit his prostate, never letting up, his hands roughly pulling Crollwley's hair, his mouth sucking hungrily at his neck. The demon was howling and mewling, drowning in an ocean of pleasure and frustration, knowing full well that his neglected cock would remain very much untouched. Every thrust sent him closer and closer to a climax he would never reach, edging him endlessly, torturously.

"Who do you belong to?" The angel asked, voice hoarse and rough.  
"You!" Crowley answered, almost sobbing.  
"Whose pleasure are you here for?"  
"Yours! Yours only!"  
"Yes! Yes!"

And with that, Aziraphale came, his face glowing in the gorgeous contortion of his orgasm. Crowley felt awed by the view in front of him, so stunned by the wondrous sight that he almost forgot his own frustration. Almost.

Soon enough, Aziraphale slid out of him, leaving him feeling mercilessly empty, panting for more, the air sucked out of him when thinking of all the pleasure he had been denied. He needed more. So much more.  
He was so lost in the sweet torture of not getting what you desperately want that he did not realize that the pitiful whines he could hear were his own.

He suddenly understood that he was in fact moaning pitifully when he felt a harsh sting on his thigh and heard a loud slap.

"No, no. I won't have you complaining. I won't have you asking for more. You should feel honored a demon like you gets to serve me. But I am merciful, so I'm not going to leave you empty."

With that, Crowley felt his favorite plug sliding up his arse. As soon as it started vibrating, Crowley let out a desperate howl. After his cries subsided, he was finally able to moan out:  
"Please, Angel, please, don't leave me like this. I'll do anything you want, please!"  
"Oh, but you already do anything I want. You belong to me. I get to use you however I choose. And you don't get to complain about it. Understood?"  
"Yes, Angel."  
"Very good. Now, be a proper demon, act like the deviant harlot you're supposed to be and say thank you."  
"Thank you for taking the time to teach me to be less greedy."  
"Very good."

Crowley was rewarded by soft hands running gently through his hair, and a chaste kiss on the lips.  
He was torn between feeling good from the praise, from the knowledge that Aziraphale was magnanimous enough to take the time to try and redeem a lowly creature like himself, and between the pleasure and frustration rocking his body in waves, slowly tearing at his mind with steaming heat, stripping him off his inhibitions, until he eventually turns into a needy, cock-starving creature screaming for release.

And with that, Aziraphale left through the door. They had agreed that said door would remain wide open, and that Aizaphale would never get far from it, to make sure he could hear if Crowley called yellow or red.  
It had the added bonus of letting Aziraphale hear every one of his whimpers, sighs and moans.

And oh, there were many of them already. Crowley, still tied up to the bed, was writhing, rolling his hips wantonly, seeking out more torturous pleasure, and hating himself for it. Every movement of his waist brought him closer to an edge he could never fall off of. Every grind of the plug against his prostate tore at his sanity a little more. 

After ten minutes (Aziraphale had adamantly refused to abandon him any longer than that) which seemed like an eternity, the angel was at his side again. The sight of him, all prim and proper, while Crowley slowly lost his mind to agonizing ecstasy, turned him on more than he could think was possible. 

The angel remained silent when he looked him up and down, inspecting him as if appraising his value. He drew closer, and let his fingers gently brush Crowley's toso, sending shivers up and down his spine. After a few moments of merely touching his skin, the digits grew more insistent. Grazing his belly with his nails, groping his chest… then his touch went back to teasingly feathery when reaching his nipple.

Crowley groaned low and loud. Aziraphale took it as an encouragement to keep teasing and merely touching.

Crowley was dying. He knew exactly what the angel was playing at. He would torture him with barely-there touches until he cracked and begged for more. And act of greed he would be punished for.  
He felt torn. His pride demanded that he hold out for as long as possible. His dick begged for him to cave, to give in.

He was not yet ready to let go of his pride. Oh, he knew the time would come. At least, it would, if he wanted to come himself. All he had to say was the one sentence they had agreed upon.  
But Crowley wanted to make this last. He wanted to be used and abused, taken as many times as he could withstand while Aziraphale selfishly enjoyed his body.  
He loved seeing Aziraphale acting a little more selfish, a lot less righteous, not afraid of his own desires, embracing everything he was told he should not be. Everything that he was told was wrong about himself.  
So, he wanted to make this last. Both for his and Aizaphale's pleasure.

After what felt like centuries of barely-there touches, Aziraphale starting gently rolling Crowley's nipples through his fingers. Crowley was writhing again, licking and biting his lips to keep the moaning to a minimum and try not to beg for more yet. Until the fingers started pinching. Crowley sobbed. He would not break this time. He would resist, just a little longer.

The fingers were quickly replaced by a mouth, tongue rolling, lips kissing, and teeth sinking deep in his flesh. Crowley could have come from the cumulated stimulation of his nipples and his ass, the plug still pulsating against his prostate. He could have. If not for the cock ring. 

Aziraphale's mouth finally left his nipples. Crowley felt a very temporary relief, taking a breath and enjoying the sensation of not being tortured anymore, not being tantalized by what he could not have. He soon noticed that the mouth was heading down, never leaving his skin, letting a soft trail of kisses and bites along his skin. 

Soon, Aizaphale stopped in front of Crowley's leaking tip, looking up to his demon to give him a challenging look. Crowley gave him the nod of approval he knew he was silently asking for.  
Having had this warning did not, however, stop him from screaming when he left the tongue lap over his cock head, slowly licking the precum off. They made eye contact once more before Aziraphale decided to take Crowley's member in his mouth and move.

The movements were teasing and slow, a lot of tongue and very little suction, his head bobbing lazily. Crowley was lost in pleasure-pain. He was lost in frustration, desire and lust. He was in hell. He was in heaven. He was falling again, knowing that this time, he would only drown in a lake of pleasure, and that Aizaphale's arms would always be there to catch him.

Finally, the angel raised his head, gave his captive a warm glance, and declared:  
"Very good. I'm very proud of you. As a reward, you get to be used once more. Aren't you glad you finally get to do some good?"

Crowley, who was beyond speaking at the moment, only answered through crazed nodding and desperate sobs. Aziraphale grabbed his chin to look into his eyes.  
"Colour?"

Crowley knew he had to speak. To his angel, being too incoherent to agree verbally meant being too incoherent to consent. 

"Green" Crowley said, breathless. 

Aziraphale got closer, and unzipped his pants. Without a word, he started rubbing his hard member against Crowley's face, jerking himself off very slowly while leaving trails of precome on his demon's skin. A demon who wanted more. He wanted to do something, to help. But right now, he was simply being used as a toy to rub off on, a pretty thing to get off to. He opened his mouth, wide and supplicant, but resisted to urge to ask, resisted the urge to get his tongue out and lick. He knew this would be greedy. He knew it would only make things worse.  
He simply remained there, inviting Aziraphale to truly take his pleasure from him, asking him for permission to be the one to give this pleasure.

But Aziraphale was not ready to take the bait. He took it as an opportunity to tease some more, letting his head drag along the curve of his toy's lips, pulsating right there, never getting in. Soon, Crowley was constantly letting out a chain of pitiful whimpers. But he remained still, obedient, letting Aziraphale take his time. Not begging for more. Not greedy. Seeing Crowley do so well filled Aziraphale's heart with warm affection. No longer able to wait anymore himself, he moved from his sitting position beside the bed to straddle Crowley's neck, one hand lost on his hair, and slid home.

Crowley let out a ragged moan against his dick, and Aziraphale decided it would be alright to lose his composure a bit, let loose and give them what they both wanted.

He started fucking Crowley's mouth, the serpent's tongue wrapping around him at every thrust. He was being rough and fast, and Crowley let a litany of groans rumble against him, egging him on as he prayed for more. 

Swiftly, Aziraphale withdraw and came on Crowley's face, careful to avoid the eyes.

And Crowley was lost in bliss. So, Aziraphale had decided to give life to another of his fantasies today: being marked and desecrated, left alone, used and humiliated. Before he knew it, Crowley was thanking Aziraphale over and over again, with the energy of both the supplicant begging for release and the lover, grateful and filled with adoration to see his beloved go to such lengths to make him happy.

Aziraphale held him for a few seconds, shushing him gently. He waited for Crowley to stop babbling before he spoke softly and kindly:  
"I'm going to leave again. You will be left with the butt plug in and my come on your face. Can I hear your color, love?"

His voice was barely more than a gasp when the word "green" left his lips. As soon as he heard it, Aziraphale got up and left.

He came back two more times after that, taking his pleasure, first by rubbing between Crowley's thighs, his dick nudging the butt plug with every thrust, reminding Crowley of what he could have if he just said the right words, and leaving him with blue balls and cum-streaked thighs. The second time, he simply took the plug off altogether and started fucking Crowley once more, hips snapping in a relentless, determined way, hitting his prostate every time. Lost in his own lust and high on power, Aziraphale repeated one sentence, over and over: "You're here for my pleasure, and my pleasure only" and Crowley would always answer: "Yes, I'm yours to use".  
The angel's climax was blinding. 

Once more, he made sure everything was fine, got up and left the room. He took a few moments to catch his breath. He felt so wonderfully comatose and satisfied... He was afraid he might not be able to take one more round. He thought about being the one to end the scene by giving Crowley his orgasm. But he so dearly wanted to see his darling boy relent, give up his pride and finally ask for what he deserved, for the care and praise he was owed. 

Luckily, he was saved from this dilemma when he heard a desperate voice call for him.

"Angel. Angel! Please! I can't take it anymore please!"

Aziraphale came in right away. Those were not quite the words he was waiting for, but if they were to be said, he'd rather be in the room, where he could see Crowley's mortified and lustful expression as he said them.

"Yes, demon? Did you say something?"  
"Angel. Angel, please. I need you, please!"

Crowley's whole body was pleading with him. Eyes filled with tears, head lowered, legs spread wide.  
It was beautiful.

"And what makes you think you deserve anything from me?"  
"I don't! I don't! Angel, please. I'm a lowly, disgusting demon. It's not my fault I'm greedy. Angel. Please, I'm begging you, please have mercy on me"

Ah. Those were the words.

As soon as he heard them, Aziraphale was lying on top of Crowley, his mouth sucking on his nipple while his miraculously lubed hand removed the ring and started jerking him off. It didn't take long until Crowley came, and endless string of "thank you's" on his lips. Aziraphale held him through it, and materialized a warm wet towel and two tall glasses of water, since he frankly needed one himself. He gently cleaned Crowley's face and body, whispering soft praises and telling him how much he loved him.

They both drank, then cuddled for a while. When Crowley next spoke, it was to say: "I'm sorry I didn't last any longer."  
"Whatever are you talking about? My dear, you were absolutely wonderful. You did so amazingly well. And to be honest, I was about to cave in myself."  
"You were?" The demon looked incredulous and proud, wearing a big, dumb smile on his face.  
"Oh yes. I'm afraid I'm not quite as endurant as you, my love."

They talked a while longer after that, switching between sweet nothings and gushing over everything they had loved about the scene. And soon, they fell asleep in each other's arms, utterly exhausted and thoroughly happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go!  
> Not sure which sin I will tackle next, but I do have a few ideas...


	3. Wrath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Today's chapter is wrath!  
> This is gonna be a slightly different chapter, as there will be a safeword use here.
> 
> I just wanted to show that, even in loving balanced relationship, things don't always go absolutely well, and that there is never, ever anything wrong with using your safeword.
> 
> (And of course there is aftercare and conversation and comfort)
> 
> It might not be the smut you expect, but it was important to me.  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway!

The plant was a huge disappointment. After months of care, of being fed and nurtured, it still refused to bloom. That, Crowley could live with. He was tough and strict, but there were some acts of defiance he could accept. The wilting leaves, however, we're not one of them. Unacceptable. Utterly unacceptable.

He was furious, yelling, not really careful about what kind of threats he was spewing, lost in his anger.

Until he was interrupted by a cool, cutting voice.

"Do I have to muzzle you, demon? Because not only would I do it, but I would enjoy it greatly."

A chill ran down Crowley's spine. A muzzle, huh? He would enjoy that. He knew that if he wanted to not  _ make a scene _ , he could apologize to his angel, make very nice, sinking to his knees and asking for forgiveness like a good little pet. Or, of course, tell him he was not in the mood for anything and his angel would kiss him sweetly and leave him be.

But oh, no, Crowley was in the mood for so much more. He thought he might try to turn around and scream at his angel, to try and really get a rise out of him. But even while playing, he didn't really have the heart to be mean to him. So, he decided his best course of action would be to pretend that he hadn't heard anything, and go on as if there had been no interruption.

He focused on the plant again, and whispered softly, to it and himself both: "Oh, you're in trouble now, aren't you?" And then, he turned to the rest of his green little projects, and screamed: "And all of you, make sure you watch, 'cause it could be your turn next."

With that, he kept ignoring Aziraphale, walked right past him, and headed towards the garbage disposal.

That is when he heard a snap. 

All of a sudden, the potted plants were out of his hands. Which were now bound behind his back. And he had a ball gag in his mouth.

Without even thinking, he fell to his knees, submissively. Aziraphale walked towards him, and faced him, a disapproving frown on his face.

Crowley remembered he was supposed to be angry, and threw him his best galre, looking up in defiance. Which was no easy feat when one is already feeling the sweet tendrils of arousal creeping through their bellies and unfolding slowly, making itself visible already. 

"Angry, are you?" Said the angel. "Wrath will not be tolerated in this house."

Crowley tried not to moan, or a whimper, or make a sound. And quickly realized that was a lost cause. He allowed himself a low, guttural groan, which could possibly pass as an angry one. He was still trying to glare and found himself wishing for his sunglasses, a shield to hide the longing in his eyes, the will to be made to submit.

It seemed his efforts were appreciated, because a foot was pressing on his back, nestled between his shoulder blades, pushing him gently but surely towards the ground, so that he ended up laying flat on his belly.

"I do believe you've earned yourself a correction, dear boy. And today, I will not stop until you beg for forgiveness. Is that clear?"

They had gone over this. In these situations, Crowley knew how to respond. Kicking his foot once for "yes, let's do this", twice for negotiation and three times to stop altogether. He was, however, not done with the theatrics, so, while he kicked the ground hard with one leg, he started screaming angry curses, muffled by the gag, in a very clearly pissed-off tone.

"My, my. Is my pet throwing a tantrum? Who do you think you are impressing, demon? Powerless and bound on the ground, writhing at my feet?" Aziraphale bent down to whisper almost reverently in Crowley's ear: "Oh, my dear, I am going to wreck you."

And Crowley most certainly could not contain the one long moan he let out as an answer to  _ that _ statement.

He heard a giggle in answer, 

It was the last sound he heard before a loud smack echoed through the room, and he felt a delicious sting on his ass. It was hard, fast, and exquisitely painful. A promise of the delights to come.

Hands caught him by the elbows and dragged him to his feet, before directing him to the bedroom. Crwoley, wanting to make it clear that he was nowhere near ready to apologise, decided to fake a little struggle, nothing too hard, simply pushing back against the hands guiding him and feigning to twist free from them. 

Once in the bedroom, Aziraphale pushed him on the bed roughly, where he ended in a helpless mess of limbs. His angel crawled on top of him and sat on his legs, effectively pinning him, lying on his back with his bound hands trapped behind him.

Crowley would have licked his lips in anticipation if the gag didn't prevent his mouth from moving.

He was grabbed by the chin, and made to look the angel in the eyes.

"I will  _ not _ tolerate that kind of behavior. Is that clear?"

Crowley tried to nod in assent.

"Are you ready to apologise?"

Crowley shook his head.

"Well then. Let's get to work."

The angel was very careful when divesting him of his clothes, soft gentle touches lingering on his skin, leaving trails of pleasure and happiness behind them, blazing as warmly as the punishment to come. Crowley was lost in sensation and anticipation, his body responding wildly to his predicament. When his shirt was open wide, Aziraphale moved to Crowley's pants, hands lingering on the zipper, playing with it, applying soft pressure, just to watch his demon squirm and sigh, already drowning in desire. When he was done toying with him, he undid the zipper and slid the pants off, leaving them to pull around Crowley's ankles, restraining his movements slightly. Making him look disheveled and lovely, ripe for the taking. But there would be no taking, not yet. Punishment would always come first. Pleasure had to be earned, and they both knew it.

Crowley was left with his underwear on, for now.

Aziraphale leaned towards his face once again, and talked to him in a reassuring voice, sweet sounding and lovely.

"I am going to take off your gag now. You are not allowed to speak out of turn, unless you want to ask for mercy and forgiveness. Other than that, if you say a word, there will be consequences. Is that clear?"

Crowley nodded frantically, and the gag was removed.

"Good. I hope you will try to behave now. I'm quite cross with you already as it is. You wouldn't want to disappoint me again, would you, dear boy?"

"No, Angel."

"Good. You know, your attitude from earlier felt like quite the slap in the face. I think this might have earned you a couple of those. Don't you agree, demon?"

Crowley's answering "yes, Angel" came out as a desperate plea."

Crowley was grabbed by the hair and slapped twice, in short succession. Not very hard, but enough to sting a little. They both agreed that for this, the act was more important than the pain. If felt powerful. It felt degrading.

Crowley let out a high-pitched, desperate moan and looked at his angel pleadingly.

Aziraphale was nothing if not caring:

"What is it, demon?"

"It's just that… I've been so bad. I think I deserve more."

He was met with an incredulous look, eyebrows raised, before the surprise gave in to a dazzling, gorgeous smile, and soft lips met his in the most tender, loving way.

When the kiss broke, Aziraphale finally gave his answer:

"I think you are quite right. I'm glad to see that your desperation to please has finally outweighed your pathetic little tantrum. You  _ do _ know your place after all, don't you, demon?"

"Yes, Angel. I belong to you."

"Quite right."

There were two more slaps, on his other cheek.

There was a rattle as the bedside table's drawer was opened. Aziraphale pulled out a box, containing wooden clothespins and thread. Crowley saw them and moaned in anticipation. It was one of his favorite games, and a promise that Aizaphale wanted to take his time.

He started with the nipples. He touched them gently, rubbing them until they were hard, making Crowley pant and moan as new waves of pleasure and desire coursed through him. Aziraphale, ever the tease, could not resist prolonging the pleasure before the pain, and took one of the pink buds in his mouth, tongue lapping over it, lips grazing before he decided to bite down. Hard.

Crowley let out a loud cry of pleasure-pain. 

Before he could quite get over the sensation, lips were replaced with a clothespin. His other nipple got the same treatment. 

Once his nipped were clamped, Aziraphale's mouth continued its exploration of Crowley's sides, every lingering kiss followed with a new clothespin, untill Crowley had two long rows, going from his nipples to his underwear, and was reduced to a lovely writhing mass on the bed, biting his lips to prevent from babbling, as he was ordered not to speak out of turn.

He wanted more pleasure. Wanted hands to grope every inch of his skin, wanted lips to linger on his most sensitive parts. 

He wanted to come.

He wanted more pain. Wanted to be covered in scratches and bruises, marked as Aizaphale's, he wanted deep welts on his skin.

He wanted to come undone.

Aziraphale gave a firm stroke to Crowley's hard member, eliciting a loud hiss out of him, and left him be.

He looked at his demon, and asked once more:

"Are you ready to ask for forgiveness?"

"No."

There were no more words.

Aziraphale took the thread, and wove it through one line of clothespins, then, took another piece of thread, and started over with the second line.

Then, he withdrew, and admired his handiwork. 

Crowley was expecting the thread to be pulled, ripping the pins from his sides, so the dull, painful pinching would give way to a sharper pain.

He was surprised when he saw Aziraphale turn to the nightstand again, to retrieve a candle. Surprised and delighted. Wax play. That sounded like fun.

Aziraphale looked him in the eye, waiting for a reaction. Crowley nodded. The candle was promptly lit, and Aziraphale started tilting it above Crowley's torso, between the two lines of clothespins.

When the first drop hit his skin, Crowley hissed, as the seating hot liquid burned gently.

Aziraphale checked in again: "Still not asking for forgiveness?"

"No."

Aziraphale went one with his sweet torture, leaving splashes of was trailing down the middle of his chest, always giving him the most pleasant burns, taking his breath away as all he could feel was soft pain and gentle care. 

A short while later, when Crowley's skin looked like a Jackson Pollock, Aziraphale put the candle down, and asked, once more:

"Still stubborn, are you?"

"Yes."

After Crowley voice his answer, a first line of clothespins were ripped from his skin, as Aziraphale tugged hard on the thread.

Crowley couldn't choke his cry of pain. It took only a few seconds for the endorphins to rush in, making him feel floaty and elated, happy as can be in the hands of the one he loved and trusted above all.

When the second line was ripped, the moan that came from his lips was more from pleasure than pain.

Aziraphale racked his manicured nails across Crowley's abused skin. Once. Twice. So many times that more red trails came to ornate his chest, each one of them giving way to lovely sighs and moans, as Crowley started to buck, hips moving in time with the nails, hoping to get friction from the angel sitting on top of him.

Upon seeing his state of arousal, Aziraphale checked in once more: "Still refusing to beg for forgiveness?"

Crowley was very willing to get to the next part indeed, the orgasm that would come as a reward for being good, doing well, being forgiven. But something still held him back. He wasn't ready. 

"I won't." He answered, defiantly.

Aziraphale nodded in understanding, and took out a flogger. He looked at Crowley once more, whose skin was already showing marks from their earlier activities, and asked: "Colour?"

"Green", Crowley answered very quickly, without having to think about it.

The first strike was invigorating. Crowley let out a loud yelp as he arched his back to meet the flogger which was leaving his skin. The second was quite lovely.

But after a few more strikes, Crowley found that he was exhausted, the endorphin high was leaving and he now wanted a more gentle treatment, as his erection leaked precome into his pants and called for his attention.

"Angel!" He yelled. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I apologise!"

Those were not quite the words he was supposed to say.

"Are you finally ready to beg for forgiveness, demon?"

No. No, Crowley wasn't. He couldn't be.  _ Unforgivable, that's what I am.  _ God had never forgiven him. Ever. And he  _ had _ begged, he had, at first, right after falling for what seemed an eternity. He had begged. He was never forgiven.  _ Never _ . He couldn't be forgiven. He couldn't, he couldn't he… he didn't know when he had started crying and speaking.

"I can't. I can't. I'm sorry, I'm sorry please Angel. Please. Red."

Everything stopped at once. There was a single snap, and Crowley was untied, healed, and dressed on his comfiest pajamas.

Aziraphale wasn't quite sure what to do next. He didn't know what had triggered this reaction, and was afraid to do more damage.

Timidly, he asked: "Oh my dearest, my love, may I hug you?"

Crowley's pained and plaintive voice came in answer: "Yes. Yes please Aziraphale…"

He was promptly wrapped in the angel's embrace, hands slowly combing through his hair, softly murmuring words of comforts, sweet nothings that he wholeheartedly meant, and giving his Crowley all the love that he bore for him.

Aizaphale handed Crowley water, which he drank, and, once the demon was calm and resting in his arms, he asked: "What happened, my love?"

Crowley's voice was shaky and unsure as he answered: "You did nothing wrong, angel. It's just that… I can't be forgiven.  _ I can't. Ever. _ "

His answer was met with a rain of soft kisses landing on his face. Aziraphale looked him in the eyes, and gently spoke: "My dearest love. You have nothing to be forgiven for. You never did anything wrong. And even if you did, I would still forgive you."

"You would?"

"Always."

They smiled at each other then, shy and loving and full of tenderness. For a while, in their bed, there was nothing in the world but their love, their friendship, their passion, their dedication and devotion to one another. There was no God, no sins, no demons, no angels, just a wonderful world of their own. Their side.

They both fell asleep intertwined and smiling, and Aziraphale remembered to ban the word "forgiveness" from any play.

  
  
  
  
  



	4. Sloth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Welcome to a new smutty chapter!
> 
> I'm very sorry for the time it takes for me to update this fic! I hope none of you minds too much...
> 
> Here is my chapter for sloth.  
> Enjoy the porn! I hope you like reading it as much as I liked writing it!

Crowley was lounging lazily on the couch in the backroom of the shop, enjoying a slow and quiet day while Aziraphale was bustling around, always busy and active. Closing his eyes, the demon was allowing his body to relax and melt in the quiet, sunlight streaming across his face, warm and delightful. Every past worry had long melted away: Hell breathing down his neck, its foul breath asphyxiating him, the impending doom of the apocalypse, and, most of all, his constant tip-toeing around his feelings for a certain Angel, caught in a seemingly never ending dance that revolved around pining and misery... Until fairly recently, that is. Now free from all anxiety, he could bask in the glory of the simplest of moments, spent in peace, at his Love's bookshop.

And it felt like the most wonderful way to spend eternity. Until of course, a far more pleasant alternative presented itself as an angel in the mood for a play walked up to him, casting a shadow upon his face where the sun had once shone, and tutting disapprovingly at him. Crowley opened one eye, lazily gazing up at his Angel. 

"What have I done now? Am I in trouble again?"  
"Well, that depends, darling. Do you want to be? I could let you rest, of course..."  
"Do you even have to ask? I live for trouble!"  
Aziraphale's voice grew much stricter as he answered: "You know full well that I do. And do I have to remind you again, you foul creature, that you live only for my pleasure and enjoyment?"

Oh. That line struck a chord, and Crowley's body had turned to a well tuned instrument, reacting to the statement by letting out the most delightful sounds Aziraphale had ever heard, in the form of a barely suppressed moan, full of desire and embarrassment. The Demon so loved to be put down and humiliated Aziraphale couldn't suppress the warm affection that flooded his chest. He slowly reached for Crowley's hair, petting it adoringly, while the demon leaned into his touch and sighed.

"Now, that's more like it, isn't it? And who allowed you to get some rest? Especially after doing a whole lot of nothing all day. No, little demon, this kind of sloth will not be tolerated here. If you want some rest, you have to work for it. Is it understood?"

Crowley looked subdued and quiet, as he lowered his gaze and gave his whispered answer: "Yes, Angel." He could feel himself reacting to this new game already, his arousal rising him slowly but surely from the half-slumber he had been lost in only moments ago.

"Well then. Do get up."

Crowley complied, standing up for his angel. Without missing a beat, Aziraphale took his place, sitting down on the couch, with Crowley staring up in front of him. The Angel's gaze was a strange mixture of hot and critical as it traveled slowly up and down Crowley's body. He was looking in silence, expectant and already displeased by Crowley's laziness. Which meant the demon had to do something, find a way to please his angel again. After anxiously waiting for a command for a few minutes, the demon, starting to feel unsure of himself, had to ask.

His voice was soft and hesitant as he said, with all the reverence he could muster: "What can I do for you, Angel?"  
"So you finally had the sense to ask? Well, demon, it appears to me that you are wearing entirely too much clothing. After all, most house pets aren't allowed the privilege, and it seems to me that you haven't earned it, lately, laziyng about instead of showing me your gratitude. I want you to take it all off. Slowly. Give me a show."

Crowley felt like he couldn't breathe. If he was to be reduced to a house pet today, he would accept his fate gladly, and do anything his master would want him to do… which brought him the idea to use the word for the first time, eager to see how his angel would react.

Looking as chastised as he could, he turned his glance back to Aziraphale and answered: "Yes, Master."  
And oh, what a good choice that had been. For a moment, Aziraphale had lost his composure, his stern, disapproving look, to let his surprise and arousal write themselves plainly on his face, painting his cheeks pinker and his pupils wider, letting his breath come out in pants.

He had recovered by the time Crowley started to strip, as slowly and langourosy as he could. He was unbuttoning his silk shirt slowly, making sure to part it with every new button, letting more and more of his skin show, caressing it with his fingers as he did so. Once he had reached the last button, he made a show to turn around slowly, and let it hang off his elbows, revealing his bare shoulders. He kept the pose for a few seconds, making eye contact with his lover over his shoulder, before he shimmied out of it, letting his hips sway sensually as he dropped the garment to the floor.

He turned around again, hands slowly reaching to unbutton his pants, when he was interrupted.  
"Not so fast, pet. I want you to let your hands roam over your body, like a proper whore."  
"Yes, Master."

Crowley let his fingers wander, at first barely grazing the skin, to enjoy the light touches that helped his arousal grow even faster, as Aziraphale's hungry eyes followed his every movement intently, breaking his affected nonchalance. But it was only when he grazed one of his nipples and let out a soft sigh, head tilting backwards as he did so, that Aziraphale spoke to Crowley again.

"Is my little slut getting aroused while serving his Master?"  
"Yesss" came a hissed answer.  
"Hmm. I want you to play with your nipples for a bit. Roll them slowly into your fingers until you moan and squirm and show your true, debauched self."

So, Crowley complied. As soon as he started lightly taking his nipples into his fingers, sparks of pleasure emerged slowly into his body, as if the little nubs were connected directly to his aching cock. A tiny, broken groan had already escaped his lips. Then, he started touching them in earnest, letting little moans escape his mouth like a prayer to the Divine being sitting in front of him, as he felt his mind get fuzzy, lost in a haze of burning desire. Slowly, his control over his own body slipped, and soon, he found himself bucking his hips, trying to find pleasure where he couldn't, as the desperation to do more than he was ordered to grew unbearable.

Aziraphale, however, did not yet seem satisfied with the show, as his next command soon came.  
"Now, I want you to pinch them, hard. Twist them. Show me how far you are willing to go to debase yourself for my pleasure."

And Crowley complied, twisting as much as he could, the pleasure being sliced through with delectable pain. He kept going, letting out pained cries and littles moans, until he tugged particularly hard and his whimper sounded very much like "ah, yes, Master, please!"  
Aziraphale had to grab the armrest with all his might at that, to physically restrain himself from jumping on Crowley, tearing his pants off and fucking him as hard as he could, making him repeat those words over and over and over again, until he was screaming them for the whole world to hear. But the angel knew patience was a virtue, and that he could get whatever he wanted from the lovely demon moaning for him and rutting through the air in silent supplication for his touch. Right now, he wanted to enjoy the show some more.

"Good. That's enough of that, demon. Take these pants off. Do not, under any circumstances, touch your cock."

Crowley let out a whine at that, and was momentarily torn between begging, saying please, Master please, showing how desperate he was and how badly he wanted it, or being good, listening and following orders well … One action would be rewarded with discipline and a lovely punishment, and the other would be rewarded with praise and pleasure… and both seemed almost equally as appealing. But if he had learned one thing from all of these games, it was that greed was a sin, and he shouldn't be greedy. He should be thankful to his lover for giving him any little thing at all. Which is how he had the idea to answer: "Thank you, Master".

And at that, Aziraphale almost pounced. Almost. He still had standards, and, in his opinion, Crowley had not yet worked nearly enough for him.  
Once his dear boy was naked in front of him, patient and hard, leaking and waiting eagerly for directions, Aziraphale miracled a bottle of lube and a buttplug next to him on the coffee table, and gave his next instructions.

"Very good. Since you did so well, I want you to have a little more pleasure for now. Lie on your back, on the table, and prepare your hole for me to use it. Once it's nice and slick and open, I want you to put this buttplug in, nice and flush against your prostate"  
"Yes, Master."

With that, Crowley lay down on the coffee table, legs bent and spread as wide as he could go, his leaking cock flush against his belly, and coated a finger in lube before slowly teasing himself and Aziraphale, circling his hole for a few seconds, and finally, finally inserting the digit in.  
Very soon, the friction of said finger rubbing in and out of him wasn't enough, so he added a second one, moaning as it came in, and slowly curling them to find his prostate. Once he hit it, a small cry escaped his lips, and the words "Thank you, Master" tumbled out of it. And with every new wave of pleasure, he continued his thanks, further humiliating himself by being grateful for being allowed to play with himself, and showing his love and devotion at the same time. 

Once his hole was ready to be fucked, he gently slid the buttplug in, letting a wanton moan out as it found its aim.

"Good. Now. I want you to get off of this table and come kneeling between my feet. And you'll do that like a nice, gorgeous little pet, won't you? You'll come crawling to me on your hands and knees, won't you, Crawley?"  
"Yes, Master."  
And so Crowley obeyed once more, crawling on his hands and knees, each movement jostling the buttplug against his prostate, making him groan in pleasure.

Once he was seated between Aziraphale's legs, he looked up to him questioningly.  
"Well, don't you know what to do? Get my cock out and suck it."  
"Thank you, Master."  
Crowley's mouth was watering already, and he quickly unbuckled Aziraphale's belt and undid his zipper, eager like a child on Christmas day, tearing through the wrapping of his presents. And, as soon as it was free, he took all of Aziraphale's cock into his mouth in one fell swoop, and started moving his head up and down, careful to lick at the underside and lavish the head in attention before going back down, playing with the foreskin as he sucked. 

Soon, Aziraphale was letting his own little litany of moans and praises, of "yes, perfect" and "oh, just like that" and "yes, my pet" and "oh, my perfect little whore".  
It made Crowley's head swim, made him want to rut against Aziraphale's leg as he was giving him head, and be the bad little demon who needed to be punished all over again. It made him want to stay focused and give his angel more pleasure in order to hear more, much more of these words. It made him feel like he was in heaven, or in what heaven should really feel like.

His hesitation between both courses of action was cut short however, when Aziraphale withdrew, telling him: "Right, that's enough. I want you to take this buttplug out and get on my lap. You're going to ride me, and you're going to work really hard to get me off, so you can actually earn your rest."  
"Yes. Yes! Please, yes! Thank you, Master!"

In merely a few seconds, Crowley was on his Angel's lap, lining his cock with his hole and sinking slowly into it, giving Aziraphale time to drown in the sensation of being encased in his warmth before sliding back up and slamming down, starting riding his love in earnest, up, down, working as fast as hard as he could, finding that perfect angle that made them both go insane, and hitting it over and over again, reducing them both into a mess of moans. "Yes perfect, my darling, just like that, what a good little sex toy you are" and "yes, please Master yes, all for you, yes, thank you, yes, yes, yes!"

And, soon enough, they both reached a blinding climax, before Crowley slumped forward, exhausted and satiated, falling in his Angel's arms.

After being held and kissed everywhere for a while, Aziraphale got up, kissed him once more before going to fetch a damp cloth to clean them up, and water, food and a blanket for them both.  
He came back to a smiling Crowley, laying down on the couch, arms stretched out in invitation, looking at him cheekily.  
"Well, did you like it, Master" he said, teasing. "Satisfied with my work, are you?"  
"Very! You did splendidly, my dear! Simply wonderful. I loved seeing you give yourself some much deserved attention, and I absolutely adored your desire to please. And I must say the new nickname was a very nice touch! Simply marvelous! What about you? Is there anything you didn't like?"  
"Are you kidding me, Angel? This was perfect."


End file.
